I Walk to You
by everybreatheverymove
Summary: She chose right, she always has. She chose him, there was never any question about who it would be. She chose with her head, and her heart agreed.


**Okay, there are so many possible ways that 10x13 can go, and even though we know it picks up right where the finale left off, I think that this could also work for the episode. Heads up: this is a oneshot, and it will stay a oneshot, don't even try and convince me otherwise be cause I already have too many things on the go :p Either way, it's still kind of short and probably could have done with a few extra scenes but if I don't publish it now, I never will. Anyways, enjoy and review!**

* * *

The sunlight beaming through the blinds wakes her, gently highlighting her face.

She's still partially flushed, her cheeks rosy and her lips plump, and her red locks are sprawled across the pillow beneath her head.

She slowly turns over, the sheets lowering down her almost bare body as she reaches a hand out to her side. Met with an empty layer of space, she peaks an eye open and softly frowns, her hand tracing the white sheet delicately.

April closes her eyes as she rolls back over and sighs in contentment, a gentle smile erupting on her face as she recalls the night before.

It was amazing, perfect even.

He had been gentle, and sweet, and understanding, and every kind of loving she ever could have envisioned. He hadn't pressured her into things, wanting to take things slow himself. He hadn't seduced her, enticed her, he had waited for her.

She had done things right this time.

She sits herself up then, the light pale shirt covering her chest much too large, and she tugs her legs beneath her as the on-suite door opens.

He's stood still there, his pants hanging open around his waist and his chest bare to her. His shaded hair is tussled over and his eyes are beaming, that adorable smirk playing on his lips.

"Hey."

He rests a hand on the door frame as he looks her over, admiring the way she catches her bottom lip between her teeth and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear easily.

April glances back up at him, her face glowing with bliss, "Hi." She licks her lips and holds out a hand, waiting for him to come back over and join her on the bed, on their bed.

She chose right, she reminds herself, feeling the nervous flutters in the stomach again.

She chose him, of course. She chose him, there was never any question.

She chose with her head, and her heart agreed.

* * *

She's never ran so fast in all her life.

Granted, she ran track as a teenager and spent more than enough time chasing the animals down on her father's farm, but she's never actually ran out of pure fear.

She was terrified, scared. Astounded, stunned, surprised to hell and back.

She never imagined that this was how the day would turn out, how _her_ day would turn out.

It was supposed to be simple.

She was meant to walk down the aisle, smile at her friends, and let her father give her away to the man she was marrying. She was meant to smile and blush, pray and vow, promise to cherish, and kiss for eternity.

She was never supposed to be walking back down the aisle by her self, alone without a husband. She was never supposed to be torn like this, ruined inside because somebody realised something a little too late. She was never supposed to be second-guessing this day.

It was supposed to be simple.

She was meant to walk down the aisle and marry herself away to a wonderful man for the rest of her life and promise to love him, no matter rain or shine. She was supposed to be devoted to him, dedicate her whole heart to loving one man truly and deeply and insanely for all of her life.

She was never supposed to run down the aisle and push the barn door opens with such a force, such a slam that every single guest stood up.

They seem to take her exit as the end of the ceremony, of the wedding, and they begin to pile out of the barn, her sisters standing back by the entrance as Arizona rushes over to her.

"What can I do?" She asks as she rests a comforting hand on April's shoulder.

The red head swallows deep breaths, her hands placed on her hips calmly as she tries to even her breaths.

How dare he?

She knows that some people have a knack for bad timing, or missing their mark, but she never figured him to be one of them. He's always so focused, and on edge, and he generally seems to know what he wants, so she's confused.

She doesn't understand why he had to wait until the last possible minute to break the news, to tell everybody how he was feeling, how he'd always felt, about her.

Maybe she's dreaming, she wonders, quickly pinching her arm and flinching from the very real pain. Nope, definitely not a dream.

"April."

She turns at the sound of his voice, her throat dry and her eyes wide.

How dare he?

"I think you should go." Arizona tries to reason with him, pushing a hand on his chest and backing him away from the bride.

She can hear his protests, his voice calling out her name desperately, and she can feel his eyes burning holes through her. But she doesn't look at him, instead she focuses on the grass and tries to drown out the sound of his desolation.

"April!"

"Jackson, go-"

She caves in then and faces him, her arms dropped by her sides sadly and her face somber, "Can you leave?" He seems lost, and completely despaired, and on any other day, she'd hug him or comfort him like a best friend should, but not today.

Today, she can't.

She can't speak to him, or be near him, or look at him for long periods of time because she might actually collapse.

She's worn out, and tired, and emotionally devastated from his declaration, and she can't possibly deal with him right now.

"I won't leave until you answer me." He tells her, his face suddenly determined and his eyes darkening as he stares across at her.

April sighs, finally snapping as she steps closer to him, "I can't... deal with this right now, _with you_ right now. Do you not get that? You can't just go and say all of that and then expect me to run to you and cry and kiss you. It can't happen. You hurt me, and Matthew, and Stephanie, and I can't just pretend that I'm happy about any of that, because I am not happy. I don't know what I am, but I feel mad at you. I am angry, and shocked, and overwhelmed, and I need you to leave." She takes a deep breath and refuses to budge when his eyes change and he frowns with a slow nod. "Please."

Within seconds, he's walked away and far from her, and she turns back around to face Arizona's waiting arms.

She's hurt him, she knows that much, but he was the one to hurt her first.

* * *

"I guess I should have known."

He downs another sip of his scotch, wincing at the taste as Alex pushes another glass across the table to him.

"Dude, we all knew what was gonna happen." He takes a swig of his own drink before glancing back over as his friend downs his fifth, "Trust Kepner to have two idiots fighting over her."

Jackson sighs and fakes a smile as he lowers the glass from his lips, his eyes continuing to watch the liquid swirl, "It wasn't even a fight, man." He speaks, bringing the damp glass back up to his mouth carefully, "I already lost a long time ago."

It was true, he thinks, he did. He lost.

He lost when he ended things with her, when he gave up too easily, too soon.

He lost when he started up his fling with an intern, all because he was too wounded to face the truth.

He lost when the perfect man came along and swept her away, and offered her everything that she never wanted from _him_.

And he lost when he refused to admit how he felt when she asked him, when she wanted him, when the perfect man who came along and swept her away had already given her everything, but she still wanted him.

But, most of all, he lost when he came face to face with his demons, and Mark Sloan's words, and his worst nightmare; when it was too late.

He lost her, and the thought that she may never come back scared him to death.

"Well, maybe somebody is playing for you." Alex informs him as he stands up, quickly downing his scotch and patting his friend on the back before he passes the red head stood by the entrance.

Jackson frowns, glancing up to watch him retreat, but finds himself drawn to the petite woman stood in front of his table, her hands folded awkwardly over her chest.

"Hi." She speaks, a soft smile on her face.

He perks up in his seat and wipes the alcohol away from his lips, his dark eyes finally lighting up, "Hey."

She stands there, her face trying to hide a grin and her stance still as he continues,

"What are you doing here?"

She almost laughs at his question, as though the answer wasn't already clear. Refraining from giggling at his obvious unease, she shrugs and licks her lips, "We need to talk."

The evident smile toying on her lips doesn't pass him by and he gingerly grins, the corners of his lips turning up as he nods, "Yeah. We do."

* * *

The buttons on her shirt - or rather, his shirt - come loose as he plays with them, his fingers tracing over her skin gently.

She giggles when he kisses her again, for what feels like the six-hundreth time that morning, and she cups the sides of his face between her hands, her thumbs brushing against his cheeks.

It's not rushed, or rough, or hurried. It's chaste, and light, but he kisses her so many times within those five seconds that she looses count.

This was it.

The way things were meant to be. She was supposed to be here with him.

It was him, it always had been.

He eventually pulls away from her, his palms pressed against the bed along her sides, and he smiles down at her.

"You're beautiful."

She giggles and wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him flush against her, "You don't have to say that now, you know-"

"I know I don't, but I've always thought it." Jackson interrupts her, moving a hand to her face to sweetly grasp her chin and pull her towards him, his lips lingering over hers delicately.

April moans into him, her legs pulling up at his sides as her hands slip down his chest to rest on the waistband of his boxers, her tiny fingers pressed to his stomach.

Jackson pulls away from her again, letting his forehead drop to hers as his hands slide down her waist to her hips. He pulls her upwards against him and grins, "Again?"

She bites her lip then, her eyes a cloudy chocolate as they dart to his lips, her hands impulsively making their way down his body. "I love you."

He chuckles and backs away from her, sitting down on the bed and pulling her along with him. April shifts comfortably in his lap and wraps her arms his neck. His hands slip to her back, his fingers lazily drawing circles on her gentle skin. "I love you, too."

It still feels weird. To hear him say it, and mean it, and express himself to her so openly. She's know him for years, for what feels like forever, but she's never seen him so happy, so gleeful, so in love, and, quite frankly, she's still a little surprised that she is the source of that happiness.

"We can do this?"

"We can do this." Jackson reassures her, letting his head drop to her shoulder as his oversized shirt slips down her arm, and his lips trace her skin softly.

It had always been him.


End file.
